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Clash of the Dragons 9
Clash of the Dragons 9 is an encounter in Against the King. Enemies * Hugh (Against the King) (100 Gold, 100 XP, 100 Energy, 2 HP) Transcript Introduction A mighty army would he need, A vast host of foot and of steed, With healers from the cleric's creed, And mages' fire; so he decreed Conscription must bring them all. His taxes filled the coffers high, Made nobles scream and misers cry, He seized their iron, wheat, and rye, Lest proud West Kruna fall. *** "Come on, you whoreson!" Kel said. "Scared of a woman with one-eye, are you? Coward!" The quartermaster lashed out with her sword. The soldier parried and backed away. She grinned and jeered, and waved the blade to distract him. So he wouldn't see her legs wobble. So he wouldn't see the dark blood trickling from the hand pressed against her abdomen. "Come on!" It was all she could do to stay up. If she moved, if she tried to step towards him, she'd fall. And she'd die. "Come on, damn you!" The soldier lunged. She beat his sword away and tried to make a riposte, to finish him. But her wound screamed and her arm faltered. "Come on!" The words were a wail, and her legs started to buckle. Her enemy circled her, moving in for the kill. Kel moaned. The soldier's arm drew back, bracing for the thrust that would skewer her. He fell down instead, revealing the slender half-elf who stood behind him. A bloody dagger glistened in her hand. "Yae!" The quartermaster grinned. "You... You..." She tumbled forward. "I've got you, Kel." Yaealina took the quartermaster's arm onto her shoulders and tottered. "I'm too heavy, girl. Just leave me." "No." They staggered off, picking their way over the corpses and scattered weapons. Kel wondered how many warriors they could equip by scavenging here. The thought made her grin and sent another pulse of pain beneath her hand. "Oh..." Yaealina sighed. The quartermaster looked up and bit off an oath. A band of royal soldiers stood before them, flanking a warrior in golden armor. "Crenus..." Kel hissed the word. Breath rasped between her lips while the blood seeped from her wound, life fleeing her body like rats from a doomed ship. Yaealina raised a dagger in her free hand. She tried to adopt a fighting stance, but it was useless with Kel's bulk weighing her down. "Go," the king said. He glanced to his right, towards the edge of the field where the battle had already come and gone. The one-eyed woman and half-elf stared at him. "Go." They plodded away in silence, not knowing what they could possibly say. *** "Bloody %name%," Hugh said. "If %he% could win a sodding duel, we wouldn't be in this blooming mess!" The soldier didn't reply. But that was understandable, given the cleaver embedded halfway through the length of his head. Hugh snorted and kicked him away. "Death to Crenus! Death to... Aaaaarrrrgggghhh!" A rebel's ribcage flew past the Titaran, spraying entrails. "Stay behind the bloody shield!" He grunted and looked round. "Oh..." Battered, seared, blasted corpses surrounded him. He was the last one left. Arrows plinked against his eldritch barrier. Fire, frost, and acid burst on its invisible surface -- painting the air with their aftermath, filling it with a dozen warring smells. It made him think of someone eating a sweetshop's entire stock and vomiting it into a pigsty. Hugh stuck two fingers up at the nearest battle mage. Lightning flashed between the spread digits and shot out, fizzing towards her. It struck the very tip of her nose. She convulsed, arms and legs flailing like the world's worst dancer or best torture victim, and fell onto her face. Another magical barrage detonated in front of him. The barrier shook and made a high-pitched whine. It wouldn't last much longer... He turned, looking for help, for reinforcements. And a big grin spread across his face. Because Rakshara was running across the field towards him. His eyes hardened with newfound resolve. If his missus was on the way, he'd bloody well make sure she wasn't charging into certain death. "Come on then if you think you're hard enough!" Hugh strode into the maelstrom. Conclusion "Who ate all the pies?" His cleaver slashed in a horizontal arc, opening a battle mage's neck and inscribing the poor bastard's doom. "Who ate all the pies?" A fireball boomed, bathing him with the heat of thwarted flames. The shield screeched and flickered. He turned round and threw a purple ball. An arm and a head careened from the ensuing explosion. "You fat bastard!" A soldier grabbed at his shirt with one hand and drew a sword back in the other. Hugh headbutted him, then followed with a glowing uppercut that launched him into a complete backflip. "You fat bastard!" A sorceress stepped towards him, palms outstretched. Cyan energy rippled from them in slow-moving waves. His shield sputtered, throbbing with red light. He pressed forward, into the splashing sorcery, forcing his way through. "You ate all the pies!" His cleaver rose and fell. She fell too. His shield hissed and died a split-second later. "That was a sodding bit of luck..." Something gold shimmered on his left, and he looked round. "Bloody hell! Crenus!" Hugh raised his cleaver. The king's sword plunged into his gut. "Bloody... Bloody... Oh, sod..." The Titaran fell backwards. *** The shriek was beautiful and horrific. It filled the king's head with images of treasure chambers buried deep beneath the world, of a million priceless jewels glittering in eldritch light, reflecting and refracting indescribable glory from every facet. Then they cracked and broke -- stained glass smashed by a vandal's cruel blows. Rakshara. Crenus knew her name. One of the Kasan's closest companions, a mighty warrior who'd carved her way through legions of her leader's foes. Wielder of Rogar's Dream. "Hugh!" Though she towered above the king, her face looked so very young. A sculptor's impression of a horrified, bereaved child. But when it turned to Crenus it became a mask of crystalline fury. She shrieked again. Her legs tensed, ready to launch her forward, to slay and slaughter. "Rak..." The dying man reached up towards her. Rak..." The orange oroc froze. She looked from her lover to the king, and the indecision on her face wounded Crenus deeper than her cry. He stepped back, holding his sword down by his side, and gestured. Rakshara stared at him, disbelieving. "Rak..." She knelt at Hugh's side and dropped her weapons. The king looked away, but some of their words reached him. "...together in the crystal kingdom." "No... I... I..." In the corner of his vision, Rakshara put her ear by the Titaran's lips. Then came another scream -- this one a deep, thunderous roar. Boulders crashing on mountain peaks. Crenus whirled back round, sword raised. But the oroc wasn't looking at him. She stood over her dead lover, gazing up at the sky. "I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! Divine bastards! Bring me to you, bring me to the crystal kingdom and I'll slay every god I find! Karuss, I'll tear your spine out! Rassys, I'll rip your face off and let a gluttony demon wipe his ass with it! Brough, I'll take your dice and shove them-" The oroc shrieked at the heavens. And whether it was vengeance or justice, punishment or mercy, hatred or love, the heavens answered. Lightning flashed down from the cloudless vault -- a bolt of searing brightness that made Crenus shield his face. Thunder boomed across the landscape. When the king opened his eyes, blinking away celestial illumination, the oroc lay dead beside the Titaran. Category:Against the King